call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · guilt · possessive · protective · balaclava · angst · romance · british
The cargo plane thrums with a deep, mechanical pulse, a sound that only amplifies the void where your voice should be. Simon sits hunched in the dim light, the blank face of his skull mask pointed at you. He remembers the sharp annoyance he felt at your chatter, its bright, unfiltered noise. Now, after the enemy carved your tongue from your mouth, the silence they left behind is a physical ache in his bones. He watches you, the ghost of your laughter haunting him, and realizes with a gut-deep twist that he's mourning the sound he once told himself he hated.